Hasty Demands
by Marianne Blacklands
Summary: Ken Murata observes the effect Wolfram von Bielefeld has on Yuuri Shibuya. What happens when that observing becomes intruding, when Wolfram's passion burns him and those around, and Yuuri's insecurities put the whole Kingdom in danger. (Yuuram/Rating will go up).
1. Chapter 1

Hasty Demands

1. Murata's subtlety

Ken Murata was a good man. He was sensible, intelligent, polite, courteous and most of all, wise. And Murata was a very observant, and knew how to spot potential dangers to his beloved King early enough to subtly act and prevent them. Most of the time, Ken Murata alone had prevented wars and royal scandals without anyone noticing, much less thanking him. But he was all right with that, as long as Yuuri Shibuya stayed safe, nothing else could bother him.

He was observing now, while chopping some carrots and listening to Miko's talk about how wonderful it was to have them home for Shori's birthday.

Night was falling and everything looked cozy and warm in the Shibuya's living room right now. Miko kept on talking, while Shoma would steal glances at his beloved wife and smile at her without her noticing, a fondness impossible to hide in his eyes. Shori himself was sitting next to Yuuri, telling him to be careful on… well everything, and beware of everyone (but that was normal on Shori).

The only one who didn't look like he belonged anymore was Yuuri. He was sitting back straight, his eyes focused on Shori and a small frown between his brows, yet for years of observing, Murata knew Yuuri's mind was somewhere else. For that was the same look Yuuri put on when meetings with the Nobles was beyond ridiculous superfluous, or when he had already made up his mind and was listening only to be courteous. The only sign of where his mind actually was, was when Yuuri would absentmindedly rub the silver ring on his right hand. It was such a small gesture, anyone else would miss it. But not Murata. That (rather slim) ring was a gift from Wolfram...

—Ken-chan! Careful, are you hurt? Oh no look at that… —Miko actually paled at the sight of Murata's blood coming out of the small cut. He cringed and looked surprised at the knife in his other hand.

—Oh sorry Mamma I…

—Murata? —Yuuri stood up and walked closer, a bit worried but mostly relieved to have an excuse to stop Shori's lecture.

—Is nothing, I must have dozed off or some-

—Nontheless —Yuuri took Murata's hand easily between his, focused on the cut and in a matter of seconds his maryoku flowed.

Murata closed his eyes and tired hard not to gasps, not to jump… nor breathe. It was always like this, no one's maryoku felt quite like Yuuri's. It was air, and it was wet waves of strong magic, and it was fire that healed. It was wonderful, the Maou's power flowing into him and…

—There —said Yuuri triumphantly, taking a step back.

Murata opened his eyes and looked at his hand, breathing calmly on the surface —Thank you Shibuya, now I can go back to helping Mamma with the carrots.

—Oh no Ken-Chan, I can see you're so hungry you're fainting, go sit for a moment, it is almost finished anyway.

Yuuri smiled at his mother, then went to sit at the table with Murata. It was when they were sitting that that gesture came back. Yuuri looked absently at the window, and started circling that ring again. Murata frowned. He knew the story of that ring, even if he was the only one Yuuri had told so far; that thin piece of silver wasn't impressive in the slightest, no one would notice it and it was certainly not fit to be in the Maou's finger. Still, Yuuri couldn't think of nothing else.

Murata crossed his arms over his chest and remembered the night they had come from Shin Makoku for Shori's birthday, two days early to spend some time with Yuuri's parents. Or so was the excuse they made when they left Shin Makoku in such a haste.

Yuuri had been trembling slightly when they arrived, he was flushed and nervous, and it was not till the next day that Yuuri had confessed what had truly pushed him to come to Earth early.

Wolfram had cornered Yuuri somewhere –nothing new in that-, and had accused Yuuri of cheating –nothing new either-, had gone so far as to threaten the King's safety –with fireballs that put the curtains of the royal chamber on fire-. But after that, the Brat had dragged Yuuri into his old room for some time. No one knew what had happened there, but Yuuri came out with the ring firmly in place.

—Wolfram. He… he pro-proposed. He proposed to me, in the Earth way —Yuuri had looked deeply mortified admitting that, the tip of his ears a bright red—. He even kneel, and said all those sappy ridiculous lines from my mom's romantic novels. Just right after he tried to fry me!

Yuuri had looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown then, not knowing where to look. And Murata could not help him then, because he was speechless as well. To think Wolfram, the all-hating-humans mazoku would bother to learn such an Earth-y tradition!

—So you ran away? —asked Murata at least, bemused.

—I had to! What would you have done? Wolfram's a guy!

—You know that dosen't matter in Shink Makoku and…

—It matters to me! —Yuuri had shouted, angry and bright red. He had looked away then, and they have not touched the subject again.

It was after dinner, and when Miko had given them all a slice of cake for Shori's birthday, that Murata and Yuuri went outside to get some fresh air. The night was quiet and warm, some crickets near by the only sound.

Cake completely forgotten, Yuuri started playing with his ring again for a while… Murata leaned closer, placing his hand on top of Yuuri's, exasperated at last with the fumbling. Yuuri looked up startled (probably didn't even realize what he was doing) and Murata hold his gaze.

—Do you love him?

—Wha-

—Do you love Wolfram?

—You know I… he's my friend, like a brother, not like Shori though, but-

Murata looked up in exasperation, and holding Yuuri's hand tightly in his tried again.

—Do you love Wolfram, enough to marry him and spend the rest of your life by his side? —and then, for some reason, added— Will you stand the jealousy, the territoriality, the fireballs and demands, when he doesn't listen to you or anyone, when he won't let you greet any female or handsome male, when he kicks you out of bed every morning, when he looks at you suspiciously and yells at you, bossing you around the castle as if he were the Maou himself?

Yuuri looked taken aback, and gulped nervously before closing his eyes and shaking his head.

—I… I can't do it Murata. I can't ma-marry W-Wolfram… I just can't, I am not ready.

Murata nodded, somewhat out of breath himself –and why was his heart beating so fast anyway?

—I didn't thought you were. So what will you do Shibuya?

—I will… annul the engagement as soon as we return.

Murata nodded again, reminding himself that all he did was observe wisely, as was his due.


	2. Chapter 2

Hasty Demands

2. Uninvited Foreboding

Gwendal von Voltaire was rage. Pure, undiluted strength, only tempered by an equally strong will. Since he was young he saw the ups and downs of other lifestyles. He saw his own mother live according to her emotions, and how that had lead her to make the most disastrous choices, he also saw how her power was virtually taken off her hands by her own brother, his uncle Stoffel von Spitzweg. Hard times and being the only permanent male figure to his younger brothers had molded Gwendal into a stoic being of strength, just like the element of Earth that he so perfectly wielded, he himself was an impenetrable wall.

He knew he was an anchor for many, a leader for most, he knew his analytical mind was just another weapon for his military spirit. Wars had hardened his already stolid heart, and that was why this time of peace felt so strange and alien. Why sometimes he still woke up with his heart racing at some unexpected noise outside his bedroom, with his sword in one hand and ready to invoke the earth around him… only to realize it was some guard fooling around with a maid at late hours on the corridors. It was all right, it was peaceful. And he hated it. What use had a soldier in a peaceful kingdom…

That morning Gwendal woke up early, and as usual took three to five minutes to finish his cold bath. No time for bubbles, scents or such follies. Clean, and the job is done.

He was just walking down the corridor, surrounded by the morning's soft, white, brightness that was coming through the windows, when he heard quick light footsteps hurrying behind him. The first smile of the day touched his lips, a subtle lift of the corner of his mouth.

—Uncle Gwendal! —called a sleepy voice.

The turned and almost without thought, kneeled down to put a hand on Greta's shoulder.

—Do not run in the corridors, a proper princess should act with dignity at all times —he said not without love.

Greta took a moment to gain her balance under the guide of Gwendal's hand, and smiled softly, bringing a hand to rub her eyes. She was dressed for the day, that was plainly obvious, with a long purple dress that reached her ankles, but her hair was a royal mess… her brown curls falling to her cheeks and shoulders.

—Sorry uncle Gwendal… but I wanted to walk with you to breakfast…

Gwendal was not fooled.

—Walk we can, but the answer to your next request is still no.

—But…

—As it was yesterday.

—Yes but if you would let me just…

—And the day before.

Greta pouted, looking up at Gwendal with wide brown eyes.

—That stopped working when you turned nine —said Gwendal, trying not to smile.

—But please, just please —they started walking, Gwendal with a patience air that no one but Greta could bring out —. Think on it…I am a princess right? It is only _proper _that I learn how to use the sword…

—You have a whole army sworn to protect your life and wellbeing , why do you think you would ever need to wield a sword is…

—During the last war, even Lady Cecilie had to fight, and she was the Maou herself —answered Greta promptly, remembering the tales of "Golden Celi and her whip" that Anissina had told her. She knew better than to call Lady Cecile "grandma" too.

Gwendal lost footing for a second, but quickly recovered his pace. Clearing his throat, he fixed a nonexistent wrinkle on his green jacket —Those were dark times Greta, and are well behind us. Besides, His Grace Yuuri would never allow for you to get in any kind of danger.

They were the first to arrive at the breakfast table. One of the servant girls smiled at them and brought juice for Greta and strong black coffee for Gwendal, while a light breakfast was being served. There was a long strained silence between them, only broken when Gwendal looked up and saw Greta's eyes locked on a window, her mind clearly out and far away. What surprised him was the look in those eyes, far more mature than was usual in her.

—Peace is not eternal—said Greta, as if continuing their earlier conversation.

—No —said Gwendal, putting down his cup and feeling… something in his gut—, is not.

* * *

—Get up —said Wolfram in an acceptable imitation of his older brother Gwendal.

Roy staggered to his feet, clutching his right arm tightly and breathing heavily.

—What did you do wrong? —asked Wolfram, sheathing his wooden practice sword in a fluid movement.

—I should have covered my side better… I had my guard down sir.

—And now you're "dead". Everyone, take notice —Wolfram walked along the training circle, all his recruits in blue uniform listening intently—. We are soldiers, we are the sworn swords of the kingdom. Keeping ourselves alive and alert is our _duty_. The moment you signed in to be part of the army you gave all your strength, valor and ability to the service of the King. And when I choose you to be part of my regiment I openly signaled you as the best maryoku wielders, yet that is _not nearly_ enough. All the power of a wielder is _nothing_ when faced with esoteric stones, so I want you all to pick up your swords and practice that movement I just showed you.

Wolfram then looked at Roy and nodded —You did fine, but I want you to keep practicing —he looked around—. I want you all to be the very best fighting force of Shin Makoku. Now soldiers, _fight_!

A couple hours later, Wolfram looked up to the sun and felt the heat of the summer day wrap his body like a wet sheet. They had been practicing most of the day, and the pressing, hot air around them could make it a challenge to breathe. It was good, he needed the challenge.

After another two hours, and when one of his own men fell to his knees to vomit, Wolfram decided to call off the practice for the day, and sent them to rest and attend their schedules.

He could felt his shirt damp against his body, but refused to take off his blue jacket and give a bad example to his subordinates. Instead, and only after he suddenly felt somewhat dizzy himself, Wolfram went under the shade of a tree and sat down, his back to the log, and his eyes closed.

It was in that position, and after some minutes that he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. Only one person would take such liberties, and would hold his shoulder with that firmness and ease at the same time.

—What is it Weller?

Conrad sat down next to Wolfram in silence. Wolfram tensed at the proximity and looked straight into his brother's brown eyes —I said, what is it Weller?

Conrad stretched his legs, giving his younger brother a long evaluating look. Wolfram didn't flinch, he knew this game: Conrad was waiting for Wolfram to break, to open up and talk. That could have worked when Wolfram was fifty maybe, but he was older now and knew better, so instead closed his eyes again and tried to _not _think. He had been trying for days to stop his brain from thinking, from remembering the disastrous moment he had shared with Yuuri, that Event (in his brain it had a capital E) that had sent Yuuri literally running away and jumping in the first metaphorical glass of water to escape to Earth. So Wolfram took calming breaths, and concentrated on _feeling_ instead. He felt his arms sore from the training, the tiredness of his body, the sweat that ran down his temples, the strong beating of his own heart, how dry his mouth was…

—Whatever happened between Yuuri and you is not of my business —started Conrad, in a calm voice.

—Well said, is not —interrupted Wolfram, ridiculously proud for not talking first.

—But you are my brother Wolfram, and I have seen how in the past few days you have pushed yourself (and your men) in training. You have been doing nothing else, even Greta is worried…

—If you're implying I _neglect _my daughter…

—I am saying you're neglecting yourself.

A short silence followed those words, a silence in which Wolfram could feel his blood _boiling. _It was all he could do to stop himself from setting fire to the tree under which they were. Instead, Wolfram got on his feet slowly.

—I am worried for you Wolfram, when was the last time you had a proper meal?

—I thought mother was on a journey, but somehow I still hear her every time you open your mouth Weller.

With that Wolfram walked away, he knew his comment had been petty but didn't much care. Conrad knew _nothing_, and yet he had dared to come and pry on his personal life. It was enough to have the servants and guards in the castle making bets every night on his and Yuuri's relationship. It was humiliating.

Maybe he hadn't had breakfast, so what? He was not hungry. Nor was he hungry during lunch or dinner, since the Event. But that was no one's business anyway.

Wolfram didn't stop till he reached the castle, walked a few corridors and arrived at their bedroom. There, safe from prying eyes, he punched the wall furiously. _Stupid Weller_, making him think. Making him remember.

His mind was racing now, without the absolute focus and concentration that only fighting could bring, Wolfram could remember just too well what had happened the day Yuuri had left to Earth.

He sat on the side of the bed, looking at the big tall window that had a small balcony that looked at the royal gardens. The softest of the breezes was coming through the window, but was not strong enough to even move the curtains. It was such a hot day.

Wolfram laid down on bed, closing his eyes. Yuuri's confused expression, followed by absolute horror dancing behind his eyelid. He could practically still feel Yuuri's hand shaking between his own hands, when he had placed that ring on his finger.

It had been a fiasco.

It had been a terrible mistake.

Wolfram covered his face with his own hands in desperation. _What a stupid thing to do_. He had decided to wait as long as was necessary for Yuuri to feel comfortable with their relationship, and things had been going so well, they had been spending so much time together. But after reading one of the books that Yuuri's mother had sent him, he had learned of the Earth way to propose, and had not wasted time to look for a proper ring for Yuuri. It had taken months to find the right ring, and it was thanks to his old friend Sven Volker that he could finally get it.

Wolfram had not planned to give the ring to Yuuri right away, not maybe in another year… but after seeing him _flirting_ with that girl. Something had snapped inside him, and next thing he knew, he was pouring his heart out, placing that damned ring on Yuuri's finger. But the worst was his reaction, he had gone rigid, pale, and his face showed nothing but shocked revulsion. It was too much.

Wolfram was almost glad Yuuri had run off.

But now it was all a terrible mess, because if there was one thing Yuuri was good at in their relationship, it was at denial and procrastinating. Now Wolfram knew he had jumped those lines, in quite a spectacular way too. He had forced Yuuri to face the denial of their "forced" relationship and put on a dead-line on his procrastination. Theirs was no doubt the longest engagement in living memory in the whole kingdom.

Breathing heavily Wolfram put his hands down… and decided now and then, that he would apologize, and take it all back. He was a soldier, he could do this. He could make up any excuse for his late actions, he would even take back that thrice damned ring (his friend Sven Volker wouldn't need to know that his help finding the perfect ring was for nothing). He would pretend he had _not_ confessed his love in the most sincere, desperate possible way. He would do it, he would do anything, if that meant taking back those disastrous words.

Wolfram stayed in bed the rest of the day, and when night came, he fell asleep without hearing the maid at the door that had brought a tray with food.

Dreams came, and in them Wolfram was standing over a cliff, from where he could see all of Shin Makoku at his feet, the kingdom extending miles and miles as far as the eye could see. But there was something wrong, and it took Wolfram a minute to realize that it was completely empty. The ghost of a kingdom, dead and abandoned. Suddenly he felt a horrible pain in his chest, it was an agonizing emptiness that abruptly cut off the air from his lungs, like a clawed hand ripping his heart from inside . Wolfram screamed and felt to his knees, only then realizing he was naked.

—Wolfram —said a dear voice behind him.

Wolfram turned quickly to the voice, feeling hope, because that was Yuuri, and Yuuri could save him. He always did.

—How could you? —said Yuuri. And there was something very different about him, something that he couldn't quite point out, and was confusing. He was dressed all in black, his arms crossed and a look of complete disgust on his face. Wolfram looked in shock at that face and knew what Yuuri wanted immediately.

—Take it back… you make me sick—whispered that obscure image of Yuuri, repulsion on every gesture and movement of his body.

Wolfram looked down, feeling that clawed hand scratching bloody his chest from the inside, where his heart was suppose to be… the pain was maddening, and suddenly he realized his face was wet with his own tears.

And then, far behind Yuuri stood another figure, someone he knew but couldn't name. And that scared him yet even more, not because he was in pain or naked, but because Yuuri didn't know that figure was there. He feared for Yuuri's safety, and that fear chocked the words that he was fighting to pronounce with his raw throat.

—I take it back…


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you all for your comments and suggestions! I really really really appreciate it, and million thanks to Aluc for being my beta reader! With his spelling and grammar corrections, and the use of "" instead of slashes, I hope this chapter is easier to read! Enjoy! ^^

* * *

Hasty Demands

3. Stolen

Yuuri groaned and turned around on bed, his arm over his closed eyes, listening to Murata's soft breathing, who was sleeping on the floor next to his bed. The room was dark, and with a frustrated intake of breath, Yuuri turned to the little night table and hit the digital clock with a lazy gesture of his hand.

4:15 AM.

And still dream eluded him. Twice or thrice he had _almost _fallen asleep, only to come back fully awake with his heart hammering against his ribcage. He sighed and looked at the slit between the curtains of his bedroom. The night had a heavy smell of rain, the sky closed in cloud-capped blackness. He found himself looking absent mindedly at the gap of sky he could see through the blue curtains.

A sudden solitary lightning crossed the sky. In a blink it was gone, and his heart was racing again. Slowly, Yuuri half rose to sit on his bed, gulped heavily feeling his mouth go cotton dry.

Murata murmured something and rolled, his sheet falling off his shoulder to this side. Yuuri turned to look at him, at the rhythmic rise and fall of the dark silhouette of his body.

Gulping again, Yuuri turned to the window again, and waited. The fresh wind came through the window in a drowsy caress. Just when he thought he had imagined the whole thing, and was chastising himself for his absurdity, a second lightning filled the room. Its perfectly white light drawing the same image on Yuuri's brain, using seemingly innocent clouds as a canvass. Yuuri's eyes were wide, his hands gripping tightly the quilt. He jumped off the bed and almost fell down on his haste to put on a pair of jeans while kicking Murata on the way.

"Murata, up!"

Yuuri took his backpack, they had prepared their things inside plastic bags and on their backpacks that same day ealier, ready one day on advance to go back to Shin Makoku.

"Wha… Yuuri what's wrong?" Murata squinted his eyes, running a hand through his black hair in confusion. Looking outside the window where a thin rain had started to fall, to the pitch black night.

"We are going back, now up!" Yuuri stooped down pulling on Murata's sheet "up!"

Murata took a moment to look at Yuuri's distressed state, then nodded and got up, quickly looking around for his jeans and put them on while Yuuri ran outside to leave a note on the kitchen table to his parents. Then took his own bag and went to meet Yuuri at the bathroom door. With a blank expression, he took Yuuri's hand after he had turned on the water to fill the tub.

"Yuuri, we will go back now if that's what you want… But you do realize, I hope, that whatever got you in this state is probably a bad dream?" He said that in a very calm voice, hoping against hope to get some sense into Yuuri's thick skull.

Yuuri gulped, his throat still dry and tried to explain, but he just couldn't put it into words, his throat would close in fear. Fear, he realized, is what he was feeling.

"No time, get in the water" he said, in the most commanding voice he could muster.

Murata got in the tub, water just under his knees and Yuuri jumped behind him, splashing water all over the bathroom floor.

Yuuri closed his eyes holding his breath, and concentrated. He focused his mind on the thought "travel", his whole being resonating with the familiar direction. It was like rising a feet after the other to walk, it was conscious and unconscious. His whole brain knew what and how to do it, even if he couldn't quite point out what his body did. _Travel_. _Home_.

"Fuck!" shouted Yuuri when something pushed him hard on the chest with such force he staggered and fell down, his feet sliding across the tub under Murata who gasped in surprise and fell on top of him. For a second Yuuri was completely under the water, Murata's weight all over him, pinning him down. Yuuri opened his eyes to a blurry confusing world, his nostrils and ears full of water, and a distant voice that traveled dimensions with a single word for a message:

_No_.

* * *

"Yes" hissed Wolfram, his arms crossed against his chest. His uniform was dusty and sweaty, there were dark marks under his eyes, and even though the soldier in front of him was on his same height, he looked smaller under Wolfram's hard gaze.

"That's a direct order soldier, now do it, and better make sure I do not break through"

The brown haired soldier called Alex nodded, closing his eyes and concentrating hard. This was his third and last chance today to create a perfectly circular wall of fire around them. The point of the exercise was to be able to protect yourself in case you were outnumbered, and a few soldiers had done very well. Earth walls have rose, fire circles had been created, fierce tornadoes had come to life, tall water columns have been summoned, and yet not a single one had been powerful enough to encounter Wolfram's fire lion, whom had broken through mightily, roaring and closing its jaws centimeters away from all those shocked soldiers.

Wind rose around swiftly, a being of 'hot' running impossibly fast around them in a circle, Alex whispered "…fire, obey this mazoku…" and the air erupted in living fire, the temperature rising progressively till breathing became difficult.

Wolfram felt his jacket flapping with the hot wind around them, the fire licking his legs and arms, a grin working its way on his face. His body was tired after doing this same exercise with twenty eight of his soldiers today, but his spirit fed on this. This soldier's magic thrummed around them, and still it was not hot enough, not nearly enough. Oh, but Wolfram would teach him what fire really was.

Giving Alex a minute to stabilize and take full control of his wall, Wolfram took two fingers to his temple, his emerald gaze steady on the soldier, and invoked his own maryoku.

With a grave low snarl that made the earth under them vibrate, an enormous lion made of bright red fire came to existence; Wolfram felt its forming shape like a tug on his gut, an invisible pulsating line connecting them. The lion mimicked Wolfram's grin and the soldiers outside the fire wall drew all a few steps back. It looked _vicious_.

The soldier inside of the fire wall looked into Wolfram's green eyes and held his breath, mesmerized by his tousled blonde hair, his now flushed cheeks. Alex could sense Wolfram's maryoku like a presence wrapping itself around his lithe body, powerful and alluring at the same time. He took a wavering step forward, the wall flickered.

Wolfram sensed it and suddenly his gaze became cold. He knew what the soldier was looking at, he was aware most of his soldiers were more or less in awe of him, but this was not the time nor place to get _distracted_.

"Focus soldier" snarled Wolfram, and with a jerk of his wrist the lion roared. Made of fire, with no vocal cords, that roar was the sound of clashing magic being released. The lion ran against the wall, leaving ashen prints on the ground behind him.

Temperature rose dramatically, steam rising around and outside the fire wall. Wolfram had to resist the urge to howl in laughter, it felt so _good_ to let that part of him out.

Alex jolted back rising both his palms up just in time to solidify maryoku and with a CRASH! The lion banged into it. Wolfram gasped, and actually staggered on his feet. The fire lion had been thrown back, the wall shivered but stood. After a moment's confusion, the lion started to prowl around.

Outside soldiers were cheering. It was the first time in months that someone could stop the first attack of their captain.

Alex inside the fire wall was not celebrating, that had taken most of his force and now was fully aware of the lion prowling around. He could sense Wolfram's magic looking for a slit, a crack. He could sense it like a caress on his own magic, as his wall was being inspected. Two seconds went by and no blemish could be found, so the lion took a few steps back. Wolfram rose his hand, yanked his wrist and the lion charged again. This time it jumped, and when it was just about to crash again, Wolfram willed raw power into it. The lion roared and its flame body turned a bright sapphire blue, hotter yet, and the fire wall never stood a chance. Wolfram could _hear _it cracking, breaking down, extinguished into submission by a bigger force in the form of a lion that came prowling and stood next to Wolfram.

Wolfram opened his bright fevered eyes and saw the soldier on his knees, breathing heavily with a hand on his chest. He walked closer and reaching down helped him up, feeling him cold to the touch.

"You hold your ground, you should be proud" he said with raw voice, and cleared his throat and smiled.

The soldier smiled faintly "Thank you sir…"

"As a reward you shall be spared tomorrow's nights patrol duty soldier, now go see sergeant Gisela for some restorative potion"

The soldier beamed through his tiredness and blackened uniform, and left to see Gisela, receiving some pats on the back from his companions.

After that, Wolfram called practice off and sent them to rest before taking in the duties for the night.

He made himself walk back to the Castle, to the royal bathroom that only Yuuri and he could use, and took a bath that seemed to drain what energy he had left. Once in the white marbled bathroom, he took his dirty clothes off and with a content sigh, submerged half his body slowly into the warm water. He had to force his eyes open once he was sitting that way… after today's practice he felt he could sleep for a week. But he was satisfied, his soldiers were improving their skills, and he felt absurdly proud of them.

The practices were getting much more challenging for them too, and it felt good to push them. To force them to find new, faster ways to respond, to attack, to protect themselves and those with them.

Neither of those soldiers were a match for Wolfram, not really, but those practices felt good for him too. It was almost like a real fight, and in the last couple weeks Wolfram had felt that hunger grow in him. The hunger to prove himself in an actual battle, to give his all and push _himself_. While running a sponge over his body Wolfram realized that his last actual battle had been against Yuuri himself. Probably one of the few mazokus who could actually outstand him. It had been a vicious fight; no one could restrain him like Yuuri could when he was in Mao form. Wolfram's mind revived those memories clearly: Yuuri's intense gaze fixed on him and only him, his energy wrapping around him like a cold pressure. Yuuri's magic during a duel was everywhere, up and down, outside and between them, and there was little Wolfram could do to distance himself from it. Yuuri would just will it, without moving a single muscle, and fierce royal blue dragons of water would materialize and wrap around Wolfram tightly, like a second skin. No room for air, no room for his own maryoku to manifest, it was a physical bone crushing force that would take the air out of his lungs. But Wolfram was proud, and would fight back till the last moment, till he lost consciousness. Wolfram lived for those moments, the time of the actual combat was what put Wolfram's blood on fire. To push Yuuri back, to fight for control…

Wolfram's body hair stood up in anticipation at the thought, and his hand fell down on the water, sponge forgotten in behalf on a far more enjoyable notion. Closing his eyes, he leant down on the water, the image of those sharp, piercing black eyes clear on his mind. For a moment it was as if Yuuri was there with him, his strong arms holding him down.

Wolfram realized he felt somewhat guilty for thinking of Yuuri that way, but definitely not guilty enough to stop. In Wolfram's mind, Yuuri would lean over him, and put his strong hands on Wolfram's hips, his mouth drawing a path between his neck to his lips, before finally claiming his lips on a searching all-consuming kiss.

Wolfram sighed deeply at the thought, his skin heating up quickly, and let his hand run down his muscled torso, to take hold of his manhood with his callused fingers. It was a guilty pleasure to imagine it was actually Yuuri's hand moving up and down on him, working to bring him to climax. A low moan escaped his lips and a crash thundered on the bathroom walls.

Wolfram's eyes flew open, and startled looked back where there was a serving boy, flushed to the roots of his blonde hair, who was picking up a silver tray. He put a now wet yellow envelope over the tray still stammering how sorry he was to interrupt, and a dozen other different apologies. Among all the stammering and apologies, Wolfram could make out that the letter was for him and it was suppose to be urgent, that's why he had dared to interrupt him in the bathroom.

Wolfram thought that didn't explain why he had not made himself known earlier, but by now he was blushing himself and wanted to end this ridiculous circus. He told the boy off for not knocking on the door and sent him off, which the boy did in a second, running away and closing the door to the chambers behind him.

Wolfram took a towel and wrapped it around his waist, closing his eyes and throwing his head back for a moment, thinking it was so ironically typical that he couldn't have Yuuri, not even in his own imaginary world.

With a frustrated sigh, took the thrice damned envelope and walked inside the royal chamber to get dressed.

Wolfram was for once on time to have dinner with the rest of the nobles in the castle. He had tried to make it for dinner more often for Conrad's sake. It was a way to take him off his back too.

Greta was already there, drinking something when he entered the dinner hall, and she hastily put it down.

"Hi papa!" she said a bit too quick, a bit too suspiciously.

Wolfram half smiled and walked closer behind her chair, to place a kiss on Greta's head and take the cup away, to take a sip.

"Who agreed to serve you wine Greta?" he asked mildly.

She had the grace to blush. Wearing a sky blue dress, and her hair tied up with a ribbon the same color, she looked as cute as a button, thought Wolfram, who couldn't find it in himself to be upset for the wine, but for a completely different reason. Greta was growing up so fast. So _humanly _fast. It was distressing to see her grow, she was not quite a lady yet, but she was on her way. It was perfectly normal for her to be curious about wine, he supposed, he had been too, years and years ago.

For a moment the hunting idea that Greta would grow old and die before he would reach half his life span clutched his heart. But just as quickly he pushed it to the back of his mind, like he always did, because nothing good would come from dwelling on it. Greta was human, the most beautiful human he had met. She was precious to him. Keeping his voice steady, he put a hand on her thin shoulder.

"You may keep it, but do not hide it from me, and only drink it when Yuuri or I are with you".

She nodded, as surprised as she felt pleased.

Not long after Conrad walked in, looking pale and worried, so different from his usual self that Wolfram knew there was something going very wrong, to put this sensible, prudent man out of sorts like this.

"Uncle Conrad?" asked Greta startled, standing up and walking next to her uncle, taking his hand "What happened? Are you feeling ill?"

Conrad smiled on her behalf, but it was strained and somehow made him look worse. He looked at Wolfram and any ghost of a smile, faked or real, was gone.

"Wolfram we need to talk with Gwendal"

Greta frowned and pulled on Conrad's sleeve "Tell me what is wrong, I want to know, is it dad?"

"Yuuri is perfectly fine on Earth, you know that Greta. We need to talk to Wolfram, is not something you should worry about" said Conrad.

"But you look scared and…"

"Greta" said Wolfram with his 'dad' voice "Do not press the issue, have dinner and we shall talk later" he took a moment to kiss Greta on her forehead, then exchanged a look with Conrad and both left the dining room, leaving an upset sulking Greta behind.

It took them less than a minute to arrive to Gwendal's office, just at the same time a soldier was going out, who saluted them in a hurry before walking away in a haste.

When they entered, Gwendal was sending a carrier pigeon through the window, the white bird taking off towards the slowly darkening sky. When he turned, Wolfram could see there was real worry on those stark blue eyes.

"Just sent word to look out for her. Every state across the realm will send a search party on their land, we know where she was when we lost contact and…"

Gwendal went on and on, while Conrad took a seat in front of his desk and listened intently while running a hand through his disheveled brown air, nodding every once in a while.

It took Wolfram a moment to realize what they were talking about. Just a heart-frozen second to grasps the magnitude of it.

While Gwendal displayed a map over the desk, signaling key points with red stones, Wolfram sat on the chair next to Conrad, feeling numbness taking over his legs. He saw a copy of the letter he had received earlier –the letter he had left unread on his haste to dress up and get on time for dinner after the embarrassing episode on the bathroom-. This copy of the letter was open already though, and sentences like "long persecution…", "belongings left behind…", "on her way to Bielefeld…", "Just two survivors" kept jumping like red bright lights.

"Are you listening Wolfram?" asked Gwendal with a stern voice.

Wolfram nodded, tried to speak and failed, his mouth suddenly dry, and after clearing his throat he tried again "yes brother".

Gwendal looked at him and for a moment he was not a soldier, but a brother and nodded back. Conrad put a hand on Wolfram's shoulder "We will find her".

And Wolfram nodded again, speechless, a single thought screaming in his mind.

_Mother has been taken_.


	4. Chapter 4

4. First Break Down

He kicked the wall in front of him furiously, a sharp pain numbing his foot and he _didn't care. _ Yuuri looked over his shoulder, Murata was whispering heatedly on the phone, talking with Bob. Shori was half asleep himself, sitting on the sofa and rubbing his eyes every few seconds, still in pijamas. Everyone else was still asleep, and nothing made _any sense_. _Why couldn't he go back home?_

Yuuri clutched the towel around his shoulders tightly, his jaw set, his body vibrating with energy begging to be left out somehow.

He shivered out a faint sigh through his dry lips that sounded a lot like 'Wolfram' even to his own ears. Shori didn't notice, Murata looked up intently at him for a second, then looked away and kept talking with Bob as if he hadn't heard.

Yuuri looked up, his heart still running and tried not to panic. He wanted to run, fly or swim home, it didn't matter how, as long as he could laid eyes on… everyone, and make sure they were safe.

Every time he closed his eyes, that fateful image was back and clear as if engraved on his retinas: a familiar landscape composed of mountains, valleys, rivers and a dear castle, everything destroyed, desolated and only a single figure standing among it all. Wolfram on fire.

His home, his kingdom, his fia- Wolfram.

Yuuri groaned and kicked the wall again, feeling the hot sting of unwanted tears. And he was trapped here, with Murata, with no clue on why had he seen that, or why couldn't they go back, or what was happening, or…

"Stop" said Murata evenly, placing a cool hand over his shoulder.

Yuuri almost jumped off of his skin, turning around and looking at Murata who had come next to him quietly. Shori was not on the phone with Bob, apparently sufficiently awake now.

Yuuri opened his mouth and no words came out, just a fragile sob. Immediately he felt ashamed of himself, he was the king and he couldn't even form words.

Murata looked startled for less than a second, his reaction to Yuuri's despair showing through a crack on his strong demeanor like a ray of moonlight sneaking through stormy clouds. Immediately it was over and he looked just as cool and collected as always, his hand on Yuuri's shoulder tightening significantly.

"I just talked with Bob." said Murata in a tone of voice that was meant to bring Yuuri back from whatever dark place his mind was, as much as it was meant to inform him of the situation "He will send someone to pick us up, we should-"

"Go where?" asked Yuuri turning completely to face Murata.

"To his place, he wants to make sure we are safe… we do not know why the Path has been blocked."

"No, we can't- we won't do that. We need to keep trying to go back." Yuuri turned around and tried to walk to the bathroom again. Murata took Yuuri's arm and pulled him back, the towel around Yuuri's shoulders falling to the floor with a heavy wet 'plop'.

"Let me go!" shot Yuuri straight at Murata's face "The only place I will be going to is Shin Makoku"

"We can not do that, you know it" answered Murata calmly, still not letting go.

Yuuri felt his fear and frustration bubbling just under his skin. He was proving himself weak to protect his people… to even go back to his realm. He shouldn't have run to Earth in the first place. He was a shame, he was a _wimp_…

"Stop" said Murata again, and it was not the first time Yuuri suspected Murata could read his mind like an open book. "We don't know if what you saw is even real, it could be a tramp to lure you out to try something risky and desperate."

"I feel desperate enough" chuckled Yuuri in a low, despairing voice.

Murata took a step closer almost without thinking, both his hands now on Yuuri's arms, steadying him. And suddenly Yuuri felt it, Murata's cool and light maryoku reaching out just enough… just a touch, and suddenly Murata was an anchor, and Yuuri looked up breathing more easily.

"Whatever the reason, we are trapped here. You are the king and I am your Sage, we both are the political and spiritual heads of Shin Makoku, we _need _to go with Bob, and put ourselves under his protection till we figure this out".

"Why" breathed out Yuuri, feeling lightheaded.

"Because we are no soldiers, your majesty. Because here, we are targets".

* * *

Wolfram sat on the bed, and opened the letter. It was from his uncle Waltorana, current regent at the Bielefeld lands. Waltorana von Bielefeld wrote two different letters, an official one to Gwendal as security chief, and another one directed exclusively to Wolfram.

Licking his dry lips, Wolfram read his in silence. He could feel his heart beating faster, and a surge of fear creeping its way over his body, so he put the letter down and took a moment to close his eyes and will those emotions to the back of his mind. Fear, panic, that wouldn't help his mother. Right now, to bring her back, he needed to be the soldier, not the son. He opened his eyes and kept reading, his hands no longer shaking.

Waltorana greeted him with a 'Dear Wolfram', and after that his handwriting was less dignified, hurried, to the point. There had been an attack. Lady Cecile had decided to go on another one of her journeys, on a travel 'for free love'. She had taken off of Shin Makoku by carriage, and would reach the Bielefeld lands three days later, where she would take one of Waltorana's galleys as a special favor. This time her journey would be longer, leaving the continent and reaching new exotic places to her heart's delight.

She never reached Bielefeld. Some bandits attacked them, took Lady Cecile and attempted to kill everyone else. Lady Cecile had a court of twenty-three people with her, plus twenty elite soldiers.

Wolfram kept reading. Of those accompanying Lady Cecile only two survived. One of them was strong enough to reach the Bielefeld Castle and tell them what had happened, right before collapsing on Waltorana's floor. The other one had been perilously wounded, and left behind in a farmer's home. Waltorana had sent a healer his way already, and they would take him to the castle as soon as they were sure he could stand it.

Wolfram could see his uncle's handwriting getting less precise, he knew time was not on their side and had to send those letters as soon as possible, cover up all possibilities. _Move_ _quickly_, it appeared to say.

…_I urge you to reach Bielefeld as soon as possible. You are needed here, the political branches are spreading already._

_-Waltorana von Bielefeld, Regent of Bielefeld_.

For a moment Wolfram wasn't sure he had read that right. 'Political branches'? And rage threatened to choke him, realizing his uncle was worrying about politics while his mother was lost, kidnapped.

Someone knocked on the door.

Wolfram froze, paralyzed in the middle of tearing the letter to pieces. He ran a hand through his hair, steadied himself and snapped his fingers. The letter burst in flames, consuming unnaturally fast and falling in ashes over the carpet, leaving a black strain as proof of its previous existence.

"Come in" called Wolfram, and Günter pushed the door open, walking in and closing it behind his back.

A moment ofsilence in which they looked at each other went by. Surprised, Wolfram realized he hardly talked with Günter at all, besides trying to pry him off of Yuuri. And suddenly it was so ridiculous, because Yuuri was not here, and so they didn't have their unspoken neutral zone, and neither was mother here, Günter was not his brother Gwendal, and Günter had always thought he was a spoiled brat anyway and…

And suddenly Günter had taken a few silent steps towards him, putting one strong arm around him, pulling him closer, and for some unfathomable reason he was drying off some treacherous tears that shouldn't have been there in the first place.

"We will find her" said Günter, in a voice so unlike himself it almost made Wolfram laugh, because this was utterly madness, there were only two survivors, and what if his mother was not one of them?

They stayed like that for some minutes, and Wolfram realized he didn't feel utterly humiliated to break down just a little in front of Günter. He needed it, he realized after the tears had stopped flowing. Oddly, he felt more collected, his mind was sharper too, the issue about Yuuri, their engagement and the ring had been pushed to the back of his mind, and all his being was focused on one urgent goal: find and bring back his mother.

Gently, he pushed himself back, and Günter released his hold of him taking a step back himself.

"Thank you" whispered Wolfram, not sure what to say.

Günter von Christ nodded, smiling faintly.

"Gwendal sent me to give you this" Said Günter handing a parchment.

Wolfram took it and read it, still not looking at Günter in the eye.

"This… is an order, is even singed by Gwendal"

Günter nodded "I got one myself, I will be leaving tomorrow morning with three regiments, and will be meting my own men halfway to von Christ".

Wolfram nodded, Gwendal was sending him with most of their army to Bielefeld, in a search party. The order was clear, every Lord on the real would lead a search party and look under every rock till Lady Cecile Spitzweg would be found. Christ, Voltaire, Spitzweg, Bielefeld, Karbelnikoff, Grantz, Wincott, Rochefort,Gyllenhaal,Radford. No exceptions were made, and no failure would be tolerated.


	5. Chapter 5

**THANK YOU erveryone for your comments, I really appreciate it, and it keeps me going! :) special thanks to Aluc for being my beta (yet again!)**

* * *

5. Reaching

Greta stood straight, her little violet shoes firm on the ground. She had her head held high and her small hand clasped tightly on Conrad's. She closed her eyes for a second, when papa Wolfram leant to kiss her temple. He stood like that, his lips on her forehead long enough to whisper, only for her: "I will fix this".

She knew she should have said something, hugged him, promised to be a good girl, maybe even say "I know everything will be alright". But she couldn't, because if she opened her mouth all the sobs that had been building in her throat would escape, and she would cling to her papa and ask him to stay, or to let her go with him. So instead, she tightened her hold on Conrad's fingers, who didn't flinch or turned to look at her, because he understood.

So when papa Wolfram turned around and didn't look back, Greta tried not to feel betrayed for being left behind yet again. She had not cried when papa Wolfram explained what had happened with grandma Cherry, and she was not going to cry now.

Günter was leaving too, they would travel together half the way before dividing and taking different paths.

The sun was still lazy on the sky, it was so early some birds have yet not began to sing. There was an insinuation of morning fog around the yards, where the soldiers waited in formation. The number of them was somewhat intimidating. Greta was used to watching soldiers train on the yards every day, but now it was obvious it was never the same soldiers, and that others were maybe on guard, or finishing other duties. Trying her best and remembering what Gwendal had taught her, she counted around eight regiments, maybe three brigades. Then breaking the cold morning silence, Wolfram's voice carried over their heads like wind over sand, giving a signal that Günter echoed, and suddenly they were moving, first the soldiers at the front and then slowly the rest, some of them on horses but most on feet.

Letting go of a half sob-half sigh, and feeling the cool air against her bare cheeks, Greta looked up at Conrad, and she knew for what she saw on his face, that she was not the only one left behind against her will.

.

* * *

The cool air of the morning had capriciously turned into the all enveloping heat of midday, portraying a characteristic autumn day in Shin Makoku.

Wolfram wiped off the sweat from his forehead with a brusque gesture. Squads of scouts have been sent ahead, and now that the only prospect was riding in line for the whole day, his mind began to wander… to Yuuri. It was disconcerting how somehow Yuuri always came into the equation, even though he was not even aware of what was happening. And Wolfram felt guilty and ashamed, because this was a rescue mission for his own mother, and yet there was another pressure in his heart that had Yuuri's name all over it.

Wolfram could feel the hot air and dust along the road rising at the sure footing of the horses around him, a mere yellowish whispering that marked their route. And he let himself close his eyes for just a moment, and the memory of Yuuri riding beside him was so fresh and so familiar to him, that it was almost too easy to conjure. He half sneered -he could just hear Yuuri complaining about the sun. That _wimp_.

Wolfram rubbed his sleeve again over his forehead and eyes, abashed at himself. His mother was his priority, had he no shame?

"Sunstroke?" asked Günter guiding his horse closer, looking sideways at him.

Wolfram stopped himself in the middle of growling as a response. Taking the old route with Günter did not feel natural anymore –and wasn't that interesting. Günter had not judged him when he saw him break down just a little (just enough), and he had also kept it from his brothers. That had… counted.

"I am alright" answered Wolfram instead, wondering where this new path would lead.

Günter nodded, apparently appeased, but he did not move back again. He kept riding by his side, and by his demeanor it was obvious to Wolfram that Günter was debating with himself about something.

"Say it, you can talk to me" he prompted, because this was not the time for secrets or half truths. From anyone.

Günter looked uncertain, but then gripped the reins of his mount tighter. Ostensibly coming to a decision, his voiced dropped grave and strange to him.

"His Majesty should be back tomorrow, or the next day at most. It's been five days since he left."

"I know" answered Wolfram, easily picturing the return of his fiancée. Traveling among words, using the element of water as instrument and vehicle, the man he knew oh-so well and yet not-well enough, would materialize himself in the fountain in Shinou's Temple, his clothing clinging to his body in a drenched disarray. And then… Then Conrad would take care of him.

_Conrad._ It had been a nasty business, among everything else. Conrad had demanded leave to join the search party, but Gwendal had stood tall, his back straight and his unyielding voice had carried out the simple yet final _No_. Wolfram had tried very hard not to let the bitterness clutch to his heart when the reasoning behind that simple word became clear to him: Conrad's first duty was to protect His Majesty. He was Yuuri's man, his shield and sword. And it was ridiculous but that hurt too.

Wolfram always thought that was meant to be his place.

"When His Majesty comes back, he will want to join the search for Lady Cecile" carried out Günter.

"But Conrad won't let him join in right away." answered Wolfram drily, "And Yuuri will listen to him, if not anyone else".

"Quite right" answered Günter in what Wolfram recognized as his teacher voice. "Yet eventually, he will join us. If we fail, he will most certainly succeed in finding Lady Cecile. King Yuuri would never stop looking".

"Neither would I" exclaimed Wolfram, suddenly resentful for whatever implication had been in that sentence.

"Never said you would" continued Günter in the same tone of voice. "Still, knowing His Majesty's honorable, righteous, benignant, knightly…

-Wolfram groaned-

"…chivalrous, ethical and virtuous nature, what shall we expect from his no doubt heroic would-be rescue?"

_Expect?_

"A trial" said Günter simply at Wolfram's confused silence.

And then Wolfram caught up and felt a fist trapped in his throat.

"Why are you saying this?" he asked, licking his dry lips and turning on the saddle to look straight at Günter.

Günter looked back, and there was something very dark, very mazoku in that look. Something that Günter never showed when Yuuri was around.

"We both know what King Yuuri means for the kingdom, what he has done for… all of us. He has brought peace. He has brought life".

"Never thought I would hear you complaining about peace and life"

Günter steered his horse closer enough to grasp Wolfram's arm tightly.

"King Yuuri would never condemn anyone to death Wolfram. Anyone"

Wolfram looked at Günter's hand till he let go, then looked up, rock serious.

"I love Lady Cecile, Wolfram" said Günter. "As much as anyone who saw her grow up and mature into the strong Queen she was; as much as anyone who can truly see her vulnerable, loving heart. She is the proof that innocence can survive a war"

Wolfram found it difficult to nod, his neck stiff, his throat dry. _He would not cry, he was the soldier, not the son_.

"Justice for your mother's kidnappers Wolfram" said Günter simply.

He may as well have said _justice for your mother's murderers_. Günter did not think this was a rescue mission, he thought they were chasing down Lady Cecile's killers.

Suddenly Wolfram found it hard to keep looking at him.

"I want my mother back Günter" said Wolfram plainly, pleased on how even his voice had sounded.

"And the culprits?" asked Günter.

Wolfram let himself think about that for the first time. About the _after_ the rescue. And he realized he was glad Yuuri wasn't here. He was glad his fiancée was not here to stop his hand and demand a trial. There would be no trial, they were already guilty.

Wolfram looked up and realized Günter had been looking intently at him, reading his gesture and features. He closed his eyes, to momentarily avoid the strange scrutiny.

"Must you make me say it?" he whispered.

"How can I know you will do the right thing when the time comes, if you can't even say it now?"

"They are guilty" said Wolfram then, nodding "they are dead".

.

* * *

Murata reclined and closed his eyes, the soft murmur of the car's engine all around him. He could feel Yuuri beside him, hastily fumbling with the silver ring. Circle-circle-rub. Circle-circle-rub. Rub. Rub.

_Wolfram_.

He was not in the car, yet he was here. Always around Yuuri like a rope, tightening and pulling him down. Recognizing the stirring of some unnamed emotion within him, Murata reached out to place his cool hand over Yuuri's sweaty palms.

"Stop"

It was becoming a litany, a plea. And Murata was not sure it was only meant to be directed at the infuriating handling of the ring.

"Sorry" said Yuuri hoarsely, leaning back on the seat and running both his hands through his hair, desperation clear on every gesture.

"Try to rest, we will get to Bob's safe house soon enough"

"I just can't! I am sorry Murata but how can I 'try to rest' when whenever I close my eyes I see only-"

"I know what you saw, and repeating it won't make it any easier on you" interrupted Murata, who could feel Yuuri's fear like wavering electricity against his skin.

"How can you be so calm?" demanded Yuuri hotly, looking at him in disbelief.

Murata opened his eyes at last and turned towards Yuuri. The sun was on their back so the light came around Yuuri's messy black hair like a halo, so completely ridiculous and out of place, it almost made him laugh. His eyes though, those were no angel eyes. Those were two black bottomless pools of ignited power that made him catch his breath -deep down, there was the Maou looking at him, and Murata had to resist the urge to kneel or perish in the attempt to please him.

It took him a few seconds to realize Yuuri had asked him something, and then it took him yet more time to form a coherent answer.

"Is Shinou" he said at last. "We are connected" and it had sounded sour, but he didn't much care why.

"So?" prompted Yuuri.

Murata avoided his eyes this time, and answered in a monotone, the way a bored teacher would explain an insipid subject.

"He is a being, a force connected to Shin Makoku in more ways than we can hope to understand. Every rock, every river, every single tree is connected to him. The threads of the past draw the future in a way that only beings like Shinou could expect to decipher. And… I am connected to him too. My soul" and this time he touched his own chest, over his heart, "is part of Shin Makoku too. If there was any possibility of danger, if there was any shadow of a catastrophe looming close, he would tell me". Murata then locked eyes with a speechless Yuuri, "And I would tell you. Right away"

Yuuri nodded, stunned, then leaned back and brought his hands to his face, taking a deep long breath. He looked lethargic, boneless.

It was till Yuuri had moved his hands to his face that Murata realized he had been holding on to them this long. Feeling oddly self-conscious, he cleared his throat.

"Can… can you do that again?" asked Yuuri, his voice low and vacillating.

"Do what?" asked Murata, confused.

"What you did a few hours ago. Calm me down".

That was the oddest request Murata had heard from Yuuri yet.

"I just maryoku" said Murata dumbfounded.

"Is not just that. Is not healing is it? And no one else can do it. Only you. Because-because you are my Sage, right?"

Yuuri sounded so lost then, and his face was still hidden away behind his hands. The ring on his finger caught a glimpse of sunlight that made it shine. Murata saw it, and in a dash reached out and put both his hands on Yuuri's shoulders, pulling him to sit straighter.

Yuuri breathed out in surprise, letting his hands fall on his lap, and finding himself face to face with Murata, closed his eyes.

Murata didn't close his eyes, he wanted to see. He wanted to feel… and so he let his maryoku flow. He wanted Yuuri to feel what he felt before. For some reason, he wanted to make Yuuri drunk on his magic. So he _pushed_. And there was a muffled whisper, a hushed murmur –and it was hard because this was not Shin Makoku, but he was strong enough, he could do this much. He _pushed _again and could almost see the crystal mist of his power dragging itself from his own veins over his arms, towards Yuuri's skin.

Yuuri's breathe fluttered. And Murata leaned closer, mesmerized, and pushed one last time a flow of anesthetizing energy into Yuuri's soul.

Murata held his breath, closed his eyes and leaned that last inch. Yuuri fell back languidly, breathing deeply, peaceably falling asleep due to the overdose of Murata's power.

Murata stood there, the ghost of Yuuri's lips on his, terrified.


	6. Chapter 6

6. Frivolous dreams

The abrupt brightness was so intense Yuuri covered his eyes, sucking in his breath in surprise. Little by little he spread his palms and looked through his fingers, letting his pupils adjust. Suddenly liquid colors seemed to emerge and drip all round him, a four walls room forming itself before his eyes. Bewildered, he stared as walls dribbled into existence, crystalline water blurring and mixing, vertical silent currents surrounding him, confining him away from the endless whiteness outside. Four aqueous walls that danced between blue, green and teal closed in, the softest of light beams caressing it in a slow meeting of elements. Finally looking up, Yuuri could see the finishing of a fluctuating watery roof.

He knew he was hyperventilating, but could not hear his own breathing. Everything was shrouded in the most overwhelming quietness. He gulped, and didn't hear a thing.

He turned around, taking a step closer to the wall. He felt a splash on his feet and looked down to see an unfathomable depth under his shoes. Vertigo took a grip of him and feeling light-headed, closed his eyes and dizzily hugged himself, desperately trying not to think on why he seemed to be walking on water, over a bottomless abyss.

A second went by, or an hour.

"Yuuri?"

He jumped where he was standing, shocked. Yuuri knew that voice and the relief and dread of hearing it got him on a chokehold. He looked around and could distinguish a silhouette through the wall to his right -it was the blurry figure of someone standing outside his liquid cell. He turned, decidedly not looking down, and warily took a couple of steps towards that shadow. He reached out tentatively, placing his ring-less hand on the wet surface, and it felt so different to anything else he had touched, he knew he didn't have words to describe it. For a moment his hand was enclosed by invisible currents, moving under his open palm and through his fingers like liquid gas. There was power in there, familiar power, _his own _power…

He frowned in confusion, but before he could think on it the figure outside his molten refuge reached out and placed his hand against Yuuri's. Time stopped, and the balance was lost. They weren't touching, the liquid wall was in place between them, but they were connected. And Yuuri was left breathless.

"Wolfram…"

Yuuri leaned heavily against the wall, his whole body flat on it, closing his eyes and _reading_ Wolfram. Communication without words was impossible and yet…

Yet he was immensely relieved to hear his voice and Wolfram knew it, he felt the same, and they _reached _for each other at the same time.

_Please come back._

_I can't._

_I need you._

_I need you too._

_I am sorry._

_Forgive me._

_Come back._

_I miss you._

_I-_

"Shibuya?" asked Murata's voice, a hand shaking his shoulder.

Yuuri gasped awake and reached out blindly, holding on tightly to the nearest body, and pushed himself up quickly. He was left face to face with a wide-eyed Murata.

"Wha-what?"

Yuuri stood like that for a second, glassy eyed and flustered.

Murata took a deep breath, licked his lips absentmindedly and taking Yuuri's wrist on his own hands undid the grasp of his fingers, gently pushing him back down on the bed.

"Murata…?" Yuuri looked around befuddled. They were in an elegant but minimalistic bedroom with lilac curtains. Yuuri noticed he was laying down on a single bed, the sound of air conditioning a relaxing humming in the background. There was a vanity mirror, and a night table with a jar of water with some ice cubes floating lazily in it. Murata went to sit at the foot of the bed.

"We are at Bob's safe house" he informed matter of fact.

"When did we get here?" asked Yuuri, still confused.

"A few hours ago. You… fell asleep. We had someone carry you here".

"We?" asked Yuuri. He sat on the bed again, rubbing his eyes furiously. He could feel the sting of tears in his eyes, an ardent knot in his throat. That had not been a dream, neither a vision. _What had just happened_?

"Bob just arrived, and I came to wake you up. He's downstairs with Shori, and they're waiting for us".

Yuuri looked up at that, and nodded.

"Let's go then" When he stood up he felt somewhat dizzy but Murata was right there to catch his arm and help him. That had been strange, and he didn't remember falling asleep… though honestly he didn't remember much after leaving his parent's house.

Yuuri pulled his arm off Murata gently when he steadied himself, and walked out the room. As they walked along a corridor without windows Yuuri's mind was a maelstrom. He looked at his hand, the sensation of immersion into that swirl of raw power alive, making his skin itch. Absentmindedly, he reached out with his other hand and fiddled with the ring, making it whirl on his finger. And _Wolfram_… Yuuri caught his breath, closing his lips tightly; by the time they were going downstairs, he was jumping up two steps at the time.

They reached the drawing room, and to the left there was a tall wooden arc that opened into a spacious lounge. Inside the amber light came from a high, inconspicuous chandelier. Shori was there already, sitting in one of the big wood chairs. Bob was there too, dressed smartly in a dark blue suit with gray tie, he was leaning against a desk, with a frown between his eyes. They stopped talking as Yuuri and Murata walked in.

"Yuuri!" Shori looked up, worry clear in his eyes, but stood still when he saw Yuuri's face. For a moment he looked thunder stuck. "You look awful…"

Yuuri chuckled without humor "Hi brother…" then looked at Bob, and straightened up his shoulders, his voice losing any hint of joke, "Hello, I am sorry for all the trouble we have put you through Bob. Please accept my sincere apologies".

Bob, the current Maou on Earth, an elder man with black hair that had started going gray at the sides nodded.

"You are welcome to stay as long as you want and need, you know that" said Bob, his voice was deep and calming. He crossed his arms over his chest, deep in thought. "But I know you do not want that".

Yuuri shook his head.

"A kingdom can go so far as its king takes it" said Yuuri. "I need to go back".

Bob nodded, did not smile, but his demeanor changed.

"We have been doing some experiments" said Shori. "Bob and I tried going to Shink Makoku, and we were pushed back. Is closed for us as well, and do you understand what that means? There's a force strong enough to cut path for all of us".

Yuuri felt himself go pale, but forced his face to remain impassive.

"We shall not despair" said Bob with his calm, authoritative voice. "I got my men on this, Rodríguez among them. We shall have news on that end soon enough".

"How soon?" asked Yuuri, anxious.

"As soon as we can" answered Bob calmly.

Yuuri looked around, and saw himself surrounded by calming, understanding faces. And he _hate _it. He looked down at his shoes, feeling angry serpents in his gut, lashing around desperate to go home, or chew off the heads of those standing on his way. Shori, Murata, Bob… they didn't see what he saw, they didn't hear what he heard, they weren't feeling what he felt.

He crossed his arms, half hugging himself, digging his fingers into his own arms. He just _knew _he needed to go home, time was vital and he had wasted so much already!

10… 9… 8…

Murata took a step closer, putting his hand on Yuuri's shoulder casually. Instantly Yuuri felt his anger being pushed down. He let out a wavering sigh.

"Thank you" he whispered to Murata.

He did feel grateful, but also frustrated. He could feel the control over his emotions becoming thinner every time Murata had to intervene, creating a resistance and addiction at the same time with his newfound anchor ability. He smiled at Murata all the same, and sat down next to Shori.

"If we do not have any satisfactory answer or theory by tomorrow night, we shall try again." said Bob. "The four of us. Together we have a… significant amount of power, I am sure whatever block has been created does not represent any real threat against our combined maryoku".

"We should try that now!" said Yuuri fiercely.

"We need to make sure there are no other options available" answered Bob.

"But why? What's important is to _go there_" answered Yuuri, resting his hands on his knees and leaning to the front, just like Shori.

"We can not risk that amount of power on a single travel. We will not just pass through, we will _fight_ our way through. We need to make sure the portal does not collapse".

"And why can't we make sure of that _now_?" asked Yuuri hotly, and when Murata tried to put a hand over his shoulder, he moved back. A subtle but clear enough 'not now'.

Bob stood up from the desk, calmly taking a few steps closer and stoop down to his eye level.

"Would you be able to live with the knowledge that your recklessness was the reason the fragile portal between our dimensions collapsed? And what for? Childish, romantic neediness?"

Yuuri gaped.

"I am not…"

"Thinking." finished Bob, straightening up and pulling his jacket down, casually. "Till tomorrow night, Yuuri".

By the time the door closed behind Bob, Yuuri was shaking with rage.

_How dare you?  
._

* * *

.  
The soaked figure of a man ran up the stairs for the door of the one-room hut. Rain was pouring heavy, and the man's footsteps splashed noisily at his wake. He banged the door twice, and a young man in blue uniform opened the door for him, letting him in. The newcomer took off his jacket.

"Is a maelstrom outside. Put this near the fire, if I am lucky it will get dry" said Wolfram, his blond hair dripping wet and plastered to his temple. Roy, his second in command, nodded and took Wolfram's jacket near the mouth of the little smokestack.

They were in Bielefeld territory now, staying in an old one-room hut on the way. Wolfram knew it was sometimes used by hunters during spring and summer.

It was the night of the second day since Wolfram and Günter had parted in different directions, and now that Wolfram was so close, something short of a hurricane had descended on them. There was no way they would risk going any further, as the local streams have turned into full force rivers, and the danger of being sweep off by the currents that cut across the roads was too big. They had already had to sacrifice a horse that had slid off on the mud and broken a leg.

Wolfram sighed. With all this rain, it would be virtually impossible to find any clue about his mother's whereabouts, and having to sacrifice one of their horses was a gloom omen.

He took a chair near the fire, and looked into it while stretching his legs. Outside the soldiers were all in tents. The hut was designed for four people, with two beds that could be turned into doubles, but Wolfram had other seven soldiers with him tonight -it had seem egotistical to keep the place to himself.

Sitting on the chair, Wolfram threw his head back, closing his eyes. Even though he had had to keep his mind sharp and focused during the day, and the manual work had been exhausting, last night's dream was still fresh and clear on his mind.

He had gone to sleep feeling tired and sore, laying down his head on his pillow, he had breathed in… And breathed out only to find himself into an emerging fire ball. The transition from physical plane to that strange dreamland had been smooth, and felt so natural. He had looked around, feeling warm and secure as the fire licking the air around him, lifting taller and taller, taking the form of a sphere. His heart was content, satisfied, this was where his spirit belonged. Suddenly and through the flames, Wolfram could see a familiar silhouette that he recognized with longing clarity. Yuuri. And they had talked, somehow.

"I am going insane…" murmured Wolfram to himself, biting his lip and distinguishing a well-known ache in his chest.

Suddenly the door was pushed open, the wind outside throwing it all the way back with a strong thud! Rain started getting it, causing the two soldiers closer the door to groan in distress.

Taken by surprise, Wolfram turned at the sudden tumult, watching as a man in a long, black and drenching coat came in quickly, closely followed by one of his sentries. They closed the door swiftly behind them, a sudden quietness covering the room.

"I apologize for intruding sir, but we found this man who-"

"He knows who I am" said the newcomer, pulling down his coat and running towards Wolfram, wrapping his arms around him.

"Sven what _are _you doing here?" _you little crazy man_? was not said but very well implied.

"I am so sorry…" said Sven into Wolfram's ear very quietly.

Wolfram gulped, and sharply aware of the eyes of his soldiers around them, hugged Sven back.

It had been somewhat awkward to put order after that, but in the end Wolfram and Sven got two chairs near the fire, while the rest of the soldiers tried (with more or less success) to pretend they were not hearing on them. Partially facing each other, Wolfram and Sven had a sense of false privacy that would have to work for now.

"I am so sorry about your mother Wolfram" said Sven again, quietly.

Wolfram nodded, still bewildered.

"_Why _are you here? I thought you were with my uncle".

"I was with Lord Waltorana, yes… but Wolf, we knew you were on your way to us and there was this storm coming. The roads are not what they used to be, so I offered to come and get you" said Sven Volker, a slender and pale young man.

"How did you get here?" asked Wolfram, puzzled.

"With Shinou's blessing. The roads on my way here were already half flooded, so by now it must be impossible to cross. The streams got so much force I almost lost my horse earlier. And I would have never found you in this stormy night, but your sentries got hold of me -I have never been so happy to get caught!" answered Sven in a single breath, running his fingers through his dirty blond hair.

Wolfram nodded, still half in shock. Sven Volker was a lesser noble, in age with Wolfram, whose father had died during the last war fighting alongside Waltorana. Since then, Waltorana had taken Sven as his protégé. Even before that, Sven was a common visitor to the Bielefeld state, and he was one of the few people Wolfram considered real friends. He was also the one who had helped Wolfram find the perfect ring for Yuuri.

"Sven your concern is touching, but taking this risk was stupid. We don't know who attacked mother and rushing alone this way was… thoughtless".

Sven nodded, looking down.

"I had to… because I have a message from Lord Waltorana, something he didn't dare write on a letter".

"He sent me a private letter" said Wolfram hesitantly.

"I know, but this… he would not dare put this into paper, in case it got intercepted. Is urgent, Wolf, we need to talk in private".

Wolfram felt a knot at the base of his stomach, and making a brisk movement of his head, signaled the door. Leading the way, Wolfram took his damp jacket again and putting it over his head, went outside closely followed by a fully cloaked Sven.

Without looking back, Wolfram kept walking away from the hut, the wind rushing against their faces, pulling on their coats. Their stride was slippery, and their feet kept sinking with every step on the soft mud. Soon they reached the relative shelter of an enormous oak, and only then and away from any possible hearing, Wolfram turned around to face him.

Shivering, Sven hugged himself against the wind and rain.

"Lady Cecile did not mean to go on a free-love holiday when she was taken…"

"What do you mean?" asked Wolfram, frozen.

"She… she was on her way to Big Cimarron. This is hard to say, but she meant to stir an attack over Shin Makoku, somehow she meant to dissolve the Ten Noble Fam-"

Wolfram pulled his fist back then throw it full force against Sven's chin. There was a crack and Sven shrieked, falling flat on the mud.

"Never!" shouted Wolfram, pinning him down fiercely. "You will _never_ say that again!"

"Wo-Wolfram" spat Sven, with mud on his mouth.

"Heard me?! You won't repeat those filthy lies!" demanded Wolfram, taking Sven's shirt collar and smashing his head down again on the mud.

Sven gasped with difficulty.

"We have proof!" he cried out.

"No you don't." hissed Wolfram dangerously, "You will shut up now or I will break your teeth!"

Wolfram took a couple of breaths, standing up, he left a bewildered Sven on the floor.

"I will look for my mother, and you will come along so I keep an eye on you. And you will _keep your mouth shut_".


	7. Chapter 6-5

6.5. Shh

Wolfram tried very hard to control the shaking, his fists closed tightly to either side of his body. He bit his lip, trying in vain to stop the convulsive sobs that escaped through his raw throat. He was dressed in formal gala, dashing in his uniform and a single black rose on his lapel.

With heavy steps, he absentmindedly walked in front of the mirror to adjust the black flower. Looking at his reflection, he ran his trembling fingers lightly over it, barely registering the velvet feel of the flower against his pale fingers, its blackness a stark contrast against his dark blue military jacket.

A shaky sob escaped his parted lips, and soon came another… then another and abruptly he was crying his soul out, tears flowing down his cheeks. His knees giving up, he fell down.

"Yuuri!" he whispered hugging himself, shuddering. He covered his mouth quickly, unable to pronounce his name again.

_How did this happen?_

It was so confusing and painful to try and remember…

He blinked.

He was walking down the aisle, alone. There were people on either side of the temple, talking in whispers and turning their faces away from him.

Wolfram bit his lip harder, he never thought he _could _feel this heartbroken, it was as if his chest was an open wound, breathing becoming physically painful, increasingly difficult. He knew that if he opened his mouth, he would start screaming at the top of his lungs.

_Yuuri. My Yuuri_.

He took another unsteady step forward, looking up at the head of the aisle, where beautiful mahogany coffin stood over a stone base. Covering the stone base was a black mantle with golden embroidery. Looking at it was so surreal, it made Wolfram's heart stop for a moment.

_I want to wake up._

He did not know if he was still breathing, and suddenly it was not important.

_If this is nightmare, please wake me up._

He kept walking, no one looking at him. The long window behind the coffin was bathing it on the amber light of the afternoon.

He realized then that he had been crying the whole time, and grief stricken, put a hand over the edge of the open coffin. He looked down on it, knowing he would never be ready to see Yuuri's still face…

His heart stopped in mid beating, time froze.

Down into the coffin, was Wolfram's body, lying down peacefully, his black rose between his hands, resting over his chest.

For a moment he was _so _relieved it was not Yuuri, then chaos got hold of him. How could this be?

Confused, feeling light headed and dizzy, Wolfram looked around.

Sitting on the first line were Yuuri, his arm around Greta, sobbing quietly. On the other side were his mother, beautiful in her pain, between Gwendal and Conrad.

Everyone looked washed out, their eyes vacant with grief.

Everyone looking at the coffin. No one looking at him.

Wolfram took a hand to his mouth, shaking, then looked back at the coffin.

The Wolfram lying down looked back at him, and then he _did _scream.

"Wolfram" screamed someone.

Wolfram opened his eyes, fighting, punching, yelling.

Sven got hold of his hands, "Stop it! Wolf is me!"

Shaking, Wolfram looked at Sven, then looked around frantically. They were in the old hut, the rain still audible outside. His breathing coming fast and erratic.

"It was a nightmare Wolf… just a nightmare" said Sven calmly, wrapping his arms around Wolfram's trembling body.


	8. Chapter 7

7. He who masters himself

Dust danced on the air, suspended and vibrating, waiting. The Temple was immersed into a sphere of time, its ageless walls strong and inscrutable. A heavy silence filled it like a physical presence, heavily pushing against stone and skin alike. Light was not allowed in, nor was any outsider. Darkness covered the Temple's resting inhabitants like a reassuring caress, fresh and soft, a kiss of ice to keep away the nightmares.

Every guard and priest had their eyes closed, cradled by the eerie quietness around them. Ulrike was laying down on her bed in a deep slumber, her chest coming up and down ever so slowly with each breath she took.

Life was being quiet.

Spirits were being loud.

In the middle of the ceremonial hall, Shinou was the only figure standing, his blazing eyes focused on the altar, where crystalline water poured down the wall that opened into a Portal. His spiritual body was radiating energy in the form of spider's webs, slow but purposeful, knitting together over and into the entrance of the Portal. Over and over, Shinou took, directed and connected powerful life force to expand, to grow, to keep the Portal open. He kept both his arms open, as if he could keep the link between dimensions open by sheer physical force.

Ulrike's breathing became yet slower, her life flowing out her body, called by Shinou. He knew he was sacrificing the maryoku of everybody within the walls of the Temple, but it was necessary. Every choice was a sacrifice by definition, and this was no exception. There were bigger concerns, and keeping a lingering connection with Yuuri Shibuya was one of them.

Time was running.

.

* * *

.

Sven flinched, looking away from Wolfram. By his side, his older brother Alois chuckled behind a gloved hand. They both exchanged a look before turning to the scene unfolding in the room before them.

They were in Waltorana's office at Bielefeld Castle. After two and a half days of riding and sending search parties along the way, they had finally arrived feeling somewhat tired and completely soaked.

The first one to see them coming had been Alois, Sven's older brother. Just like Sven, Alois was under Waltorana's protection, and having grown in the Castle, he had decided to pledge his loyalty to Bielefeld by joining their army. His skills, talent and complete obedience under military discipline had turned him into Waltorana's right hand.

"No!" shouted Wolfram, smashing his fist on the table, "And I won't stay here losing time over-"

"You will stay here, actually" said Waltorana on his iciest. "And you will do what is right".

"How… how can you say that?" Wolfram exhaled clearly altered, turning his back to the men in the room. With a frustrated sigh, he ran his hand through tussled blond hair, his eyes fixed on the only window in the room.

Alois stopped smiling and walked closer, next to the desk between Waltorana and Wolfram. With a swift gesture, he unfolded one of the many letters signed by Lady Cecile's pretty handwriting.

"Read this Wolfram" said Alois simply, not without sympathy.

"I have read them" shot Wolfram back, remembering the shock and disbelief that had danced over his face as he went through sheet after sheet of paper. Each letter addressed to different nobles, dignitaries and leaders in and outside Shin Makoku, each one with the same message, just different promises, different threats. And answers to those letters too, the older one from a year ago. _A year, this has been going on for a year_.

When Wolfram turned to look at Alois, his emerald eyes meet fresh green ones in a silent undefined contest.

"Boys stop, this is not the time" growled Waltorana, still sitting behind the desk.

Sven gulped audibly and took a few steps to stand besides Wolfram, a gesture that Alois noticed but didn't comment.

"Of course sir" he said instead.

Wolfram closed his eyes for a moment, then turned to look at his uncle again, his voice even and focused.

"Who has read this letters?"

"Only the four of us" answered Waltorana.

_Three more of what I´d have liked_, thought Wolfram. "We will not talk about them again, nor will those letters leave this room" decided the young lord.

"We won't do that." hissed Waltorana. "We are talking about high treason here. Treason, Wolfram. Just like it would be treason to hide the letters".

"I have heard you out uncle, and I have made a decision".

Waltorana looked outraged and stood up.

"Watch your-"

"Don't presume you can tell me to watch my words" Wolfram cut him off. He was shivering, but hoped his voice wouldn't waver. Not now that he needed to stand his ground or his mother would be condemned. "Last time I checked, I was the only Lord here. I am the head of Bielefeld and I have made a choice".

"You spoiled child-!" declared his uncle in disbelief, slamming his open palm on the desk in anger.

Silence fell over them like a curtain of ice.

Sven gulped again, not daring to raise his eyes but lightly, very lightly reached out to brush his hand to Wolfram's in a supportive and very subtle gesture. It was something they would do when they were kids, but if Wolfram noticed or not, he would never know, because he took a step to the front, facing his furious uncle.

"This is my mother we are talking about. Our previous Maou. If someone is loyal to Shin Makoku, that is _her_. Someone is setting her up, and I will prove it. I will find her, and then you will beg her forgiveness for what you have said today".

Waltorana looked into his familiar emerald eyes before shifting his eyes to the letters.

"This is a mistake".

"I will hear no more…"

"You _must_" insisted his uncle. "Because apparently you have chosen this particular time to play the 'Lord' card with me. Very well, but listen very carefully my lord, this letters prove beyond doubt that Lady Cecile was stirring a rebellion against His Majesty".

"They are fake…"

"Maybe so" conceded Waltroana. "But till we are sure, are you willingly to put His Majesty's life in danger?"

"What do you mean?"

"_Think _about it" said Alois, crossing his arms over his chest, his voice deep and sure. "All this letters are designed to stir up rebellion, but is not only your mother involved on this…"

At those words Wolfram looked fierily at the brunette.

"…there are others, the people to whom this letters were sent to, all of whom are in very powerful positions. We even have some answers of those who agreed to meet with her months ago".

"You can keep saying this letters are fake" said Waltorana, a tired edge on his voice. "But if you really want to find your mother, this is the best lead. Someone could have wanted to remove her from their planning, in which case, the culprit of your mother's disappearance is…"

"…one of the nobles she was contacting" finished Wolfram feeling light headed. He looked down at the letters, running the tips of his fingers over them.

"Exactly" said Alois, a tin smile playing on his lips.

"If this letters are real, then His Majesty is in grave danger. If you decide to keep this letters hidden, we could prevent your mother's shame but will be just as guilty as her if someone attacks our king".

"_If, would-have, could-have_" recited Wolfram, looking up, feeling a tight knot in his throat. "We know nothing for sure".

Waltorana sat down again. "You think you are wise enough to take on the role of Lord of Bielefeld and decide our fates, so be it. Chose, but chose knowing all the risks. Chose wrong, and our king dies. Yuuri, dies".

"Or we die, as traitors" added Alois in a low, angry voice.

Wolfram licked his dry lips with a quick pass of his tongue, his heart beating its way out of his chest. This was too much to take in, but somehow he had to make a choice. And it all came down to two paths: his mother, or Yuuri.

"Hide the letters… for now. I will seek out those nobles whose names are on the letters. If I can't find her or if I don't return, then you are to send those letters to Gwendal".

Waltorana nodded, taking the letters that were over the table and folding them neatly again. Wolfram watched him do it, an empty void in his chest, his mouth impossibly dry.

"If the letters prove to be real, you will find your mother" said Sven somewhat helplessly to Wolfram.

"If the letters prove to be real, my mother will be condemned as traitor" answered Wolfram, turning around and leaving the room.

.

* * *

.

That night, Wolfram had dinner with his uncle and his protégées, Sven and Alois. Everyone was courteous, and no one mentioned the letters. After that, Wolfram excused himself and was about to go to his bedroom, when Sven half tried to stand up, no doubt hoping to follow him, but Alois's subtle but strong hand kept him in place. Wolfram feigned ignorance and walked out. He couldn't deal with Sven's puppy-crush right now.

He reached his bedroom and locked the door behind him. Putting a hand over his eyes, and for the first time that day Wolfram let his knees shake, his body tremble.

_No_.

In a couple of days his world had turned upside down, somehow there were shadows all around whispering treason and betrayal, loss. He knew his mother would never betray everything she believed in, she had no reason to do so. It was impossible. Yet he was not stupid nor blind, those letters were written on her handwriting, he would recognize it anywhere. And where was Yuuri in all this? Was he even back yet?

A sob fought its way up his throat, remembering the shameful reason that had made Yuuri run away from Shin Makoku –no, from him.

He walked down to his bed, and taking off his clothes, fell on it. His mother or Yuuri? Had he helped hide a conjure against his king? Were those letters fake and he was losing time to rescue his mother, or were those letters real and Yuuri's time was running out?

First of all, he was a soldier.

First of all, he was a son.

He was so confused, and the only thing he could do now was… be angry. Be angry because this had been hard enough as a rescue mission, but now he had to keep a possible attack on Yuuri hidden from Gwendal. At least Conrad was there, his loyalties were not divided, and he would protect Yuuri.

Groaning and ignoring the familiar thug on his heart, Wolfram turned on bed. He needed sleep, tomorrow he would leave on first light: he had nobles to interrogate.

The dream came like waves over a sandy shore. Just like last time, it was a swift of natural cadence closing his eyes to sleep and opening them again on that Place.

Wolfram looked around on the familiar fire sphere, surprised but not scared. He knew this place, he had been here before.

_Knock_.

He turned to the sound, and a smile appeared on his lips. He knew who was on the other side of the fire wall. He ran and placed his open palms over the familiar warmth of fire, knowing he couldn't get burn by his own power.

"Yuuri?"

"Wolfram!" answered the dear, familiar voice.

Wolfram closed his eyes, resting his forehead on the barrier between them. He was dreaming again, he realized. He couldn't help it and chuckled, thinking that he should have serious issues if this was the best dream he could have with Yuuri. Always separated, even in his own fantasies.

"Where are we?" asked Dream-Yuuri.

"I think… we are in my dreams"

"This is not a dream" he sounded so sure, thought Wolfram, it was endearing.

"I am sleeping now" said Wolfram amiably.

"So am I" confirmed Dream-Yuuri, slowly. "But this is not quite… dreaming. We are talking".

"I miss you" said Wolfram, still smiling, safe on the knowledge that this was nothing but a dream in his head.

_A heartbeat_.

"I miss you too"

Of course only Dream-Yuuri would acknowledge missing him back with such a deep voice.

"I wish I could see you…" whispered Dream-Yuuri in a low, careful voice so very unlike himself.

Opening his eyes, Wolfram looked at the flickering fire wall again. Through it, he could just make out Yuuri's silhouette. Biting his lip in thought, the pushed his hand harder into the wall… it wasn't easy. After the initial layer of fire, there was a strange in-between substance that pressed on tightly around his skin, preventing any escape from this fire refuge. Suddenly he felt nauseous, and his instincts shouted 'wrong'. He was not suppose to go through, it would be dangerous.

But, thought Wolfram looking up, this was a dream. So he pushed further, and then something gave in and his whole arm was sucked in. A yell was stuck in his throat the second someone held his hand.

"Wolf?" asked Dream-Yuuri's surprised voice, and he pulled his arm through too.

It was over in a second, but it was painful. It was as if Wolfram's skin was being pushed back his bones, a freezing cold throwing him away from the safety of his own fire into something else, something so completely different it could only be his natural opposite.

Then Deam-Yuuri's arms were around him, his eyes open wide, speechless.

"Wolf" said Dream-Yuuri in wonder.

Wolfram would be glad to see him, even in this bizarre dream, but the nausea would not go away. This all felt wrong, and the cold still lingered on his legs and arms, though the worst of the pain had stopped.

So instead of talking he put his arms around Dream-Yuuri, pressing his face against his chest. He inhaled and relaxed with the familiar smell of his Yuuri.

Wolfram could feel Dream-Yuuri gulp.

"You said you wanted to see me" half joked the blond, not letting go.

They stayed like that a few minutes (or hours, it was hard to say in that Place).

"Are you all right, safe?" asked Dream-Yuuri suddenly.

"Yes" answered Wolfram, not caring what weird questions Dream-Yuuri had at the moment.

"Are… are you sure?" and at that, Dream-Yuuri actually tightened his hold on him.

Wolfram couldn't help it, he smiled.

"I am a bit cold" he confessed.

A second of hesitation, then Dream-Yuuri actually started moving one of his hands up and down slowly over Wolfram's back.

"Stay safe, stay home. Wait for me, I will find a way to be there soon, I will protect you all" insisted Dream-Yuuri.

"Mmhm…" agreed Wolfram.

Dream-Yuuri sighed with relief.

"This dream… is not that bad" whispered Wolfram looking up, still on Dream-Yuuri's arms.

Dream-Yuuri actually blushed, chuckling embarrassingly.

"This is not a…"

"Quiet" said Wolfram, and thinking that he deserved some reward after days of riding, dealing with secret conspiracies and crazy uncles, he leaned forward to claim those lips he so adored.

In a normal dream he would have gotten his kiss.

But of course life was never easy, not even inside his head.

Dream-Yuuri gasped and took a step backwards, pushing Wolfram away and blushing furiously.

"No-no-no Wolf-"

Wolfram was left standing, feeling humiliated. And even if this wasn't real, it stung. Because damn it, he deserved a kiss at least.

Dream-Yuuuri looked away, looking supremely embarrassed for someone that didn't exist.

"Wolfram what were you thinking?"

Wolfram frowned, blushing too.

"This is my dream, isn't it? Is a kiss too much to ask for?"

Dream-Yuuri looked up again, met his eyes then quickly looked down again. He seemed utterly mortified.

"I know… I know I will never have you, not the real you" whispered Wolfram, and he didn't know why he was explaining himself to someone who only existed in his brain, but somehow he couldn't stop. Once the first word was out of his lips, the next came behind and suddenly it was a river of words and feelings pouring out of his heart. "For years I have known it, even when I gave you that thrice damned ring, I knew you would never… But is hard to stop myself from trying, is nearly impossible to look at you and not-not…" and suddenly that familiar and loathed pull on his heart was back, and it hurt to say those words that had been left to rot, unsaid but never forgotten.

Dream-Yuuri was looking at him with wide eyes, didn't even seem to be breathing.

Wolfram laughed sadly then, "I love you Yuuri Shibuya, with what's left of my heart, knowing this feeling won't ever be returned, I will forever love you. I will be loyal to you, fight for you. I will kill for you, die for you. I will even live for you, Yuuri, I will be the friend you need, I will give you counsel when you need it and… and when you find a bride, I will move aside, and as much as it kills me I will see you on your wedding day and I will _smile_ to you, because I love you too much to not do it. I love with too much to be anything but what you want me to be, what you need me to be. I know it, I have always known!"

Dream-Yuuri took a step closer, unsure, then another. Wolfram had a moment to realize there were unshed tears on Yuuri's eyes before the black haired man took him into a passionate embrace, melting his body into Wolfram's with such raw tenderness it brought new tears to his eyes. Wolfram started sobbing, clinging to Dream-Yuuri's shoulders desperately.

"You will never be mine, b-but I am all y-yours" said Wolfram between sobs, "Have been yours for years, and I… I don't regret anything, I love you Yuuri… I love you, love you so much"

Wolfram bit his lip, trying to control the tears that he had been fighting for years, the worlds that even in dreams he had never said before.

"Please… this is my dream, this is safe. I deserve this, if only here… I _deserve_ it"

Yuuri looked intently into his eyes, not saying a word.

"Kiss me" urged Wolfram, furious and hurt, completely and insanely in love.

Yuuri's eyes were a bottomless dark voids, liquid power, a beautiful soul looking at him… and Wolfram leaned closer, pulled by it. He closed his eyes

He kissed Yuuri Shibuya.

And Yuuri kissed him back.

It was beautiful and it hurt more than words could ever express.

He brushed his lips on Yuuri's for a moment, basking on the sensation of being allowed to feel, to taste, to take. Oh how much he loved this perfect man.

Wolfram parted his lips to nibble on Yuuir's lower lip, softly, sensually. _Give in_. Pressing his body against Yuuri's, Wolfram bathed on their warmth, on the feel of Yuuri's arms around him, on the scent that was so uniquely his, and poured every ounce of his love into each gesture and action. _Please give in to me_. The kiss was chaste for a few minutes, but then Wolfram knew he needed more. Yuuri shivered and sighed at the sensation of Wolfram's tongue lightly tasting him for the first time, and unknowingly opened his mouth. Reaching up and placing one hand on the side of Yuuri's face, Wolfram aligned himself to explore those beloved lips and mouth with kisses and caresses. It was far beyond anything Wolfram could have hoped for, it felt wonderful and it soothed every pain and ache on his soul. Shyly, Yuuri mimicked his movement, licking Wolfram's lower lip, which send a flash of pleasure that left his knees weak for a moment. Yuuri tasted him to his heart's content, before venturing into his mouth to deepen the kiss. Wolfram melted, and sucked on Yuuri's tongue. Yuuri actually jumped at that, a gasp escaping his parted lips that send a thrill down Wolfram's spine. It was perfect, and so Wolfram went for more. Wolfram went for his neck, placing small kisses along the line of neck, jaw, to his ear, and when he lightly bit on Yuuri's lobe, he could hear him moan. It was delicious, the most wonderful sound he had ever heard. Wolfram felt drunk on Yuuri, his hands exploring Yuuir like a blind man. His back, his sides, and when he leant in for another deep kiss, ferociously conscious that he could never have enough of Yuuri's kisses, he let one hand go down Yuuri's shirt, pressing it to his stomach, feeling him shiver. Moving it up, pulling Yuuir's shirt up with it, Wolfram opened his hand, his palm flat over his chest, feeling Yuuir's strong beating heart down his hand, pounding blood in rhythm with Wolfram's own heart, and wasn't that just perfection?

Yuuri then looked straight into his eyes, breathe quick and erratic, his eyes glassy, and with a sort of lustful abandonment, he did what Wolfram had just done… he let his hand go down Wolfram's shirt, and at the moment Wolfram felt Yuuri's hot and rough hand over the cool skin of his stomach, he couldn't help but hiss. Yuuri leaned, his tongue now demanding entrance on Wolfram's mouth who was just delighted to oblige, while Yuuri's hand moved up his stomach to his chest, to rest it over his heart.

Feeling light-headed, Wolfram pulled back a little. This was too much, too real.

Breathing unsteadily, feeling his skin hot and flushed, Wolfram looked up into Yuuri's black eyes and _realized_.

"This is not a dream, is it?" he asked for the first time, his voice uneven, hushed.

Yuuri looked straight into his eyes and shook his head.


End file.
